not there to see

Sutra.

I listened and watched in awe
gasping for air,
welcoming a tear

how they fell like dominoes
with a majestic tremor
(plywood boxes with men)

how someone in the audience
giggled unruly midst everything
(little boy on row 1)

how the violin cried along the cello
in enchanting tristesse
(grand piano, too)

how I recognized the movements
as those I once hoped to emulate
(Tai Chi)

how I hoped to recall it all
when I see you next
(not the same)

how I longed to hold your hand
while all this was laid before me
(explain)

how you were not there to see
and it made me sigh
( . )

"always" (somehow)

for some time now
I had been thinking of that word...
once it appeared
it would not let me forget itself

and that was alright by me.

I'm happy with this.

for some time now
I had been unsettled by that word...
once it was out
I could not let it be

until now
when you said it, too...
another private uncertainty ousted
-- yet another.

step for step, word for word:
we're further down the road,
leading nowhere and everywhere

I'm happy with this.

things at home

at a walk, the other day
I was pleased to notice
that I still see things around me
that my vision is not blurred
by lack of sleep

there's beauty everywhere
at home
on the streets
in you.

she comes first, not knowing it

at times:
"unfaithful to me" we think.
as if it were true.

what a joy it must be for her
to be able to hold you
whenever she pleases

you're always there.

"that is my place, too" we claim.
"so where is my time?"

could be called jealousy
but
with a tolerant smile
and an understanding heart
we wait for our turn

it is a choice
not a must.

so whenever
in a minute
you take my hand
and we dive deep

relying
enjoying
bewildered

whatever we get
we love.